


You're the Deuce I Don't Wanna Drop

by thalialunacy



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Comedy, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Basically, everybody who’d seen Jared in anything less chaste than a snow parka swore up and down he was hung like a damn porn star.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the Deuce I Don't Wanna Drop

**Author's Note:**

> **Genre** : Non-AU future-fic containing porn and manly feelings.  
>  **Disclaimer** : I don’t know these people, and I don’t claim to.  
>  **Warning** : This is not your mother’s romance novel. There’s poop jokes, and dick jokes, and staying in the closet, and Jensen is the one who goes by ‘J’. But I don’t write anything without love and ~~a bit with a dog~~ a happy ending, so it’s worth the ride.  
>  **Author’s Note** : I can personally assure you that everything in here about big & tall men is absolutely plausible; I can’t say more than that without embarrassing some people in my past and present, so you’ll just have to trust me.  
>  **Dedication** : To janice_lester. Not because I wrote it for her, but because she’s been particularly inspiring lately. And that ain’t hay.  
>  **Credits** : The title is something my buddy Amy says about her man-friend. ‘Lizard brain’ is a mutation of a Dan Savage-ism, I stole one line from _The Cutting Edge_ , and obvious _Mallrats_ line is obvious.

Jared, for all he’s been with women for the past twenty-five years, sure dives into Jensen’s pants like a champ.

“Fucking finally,” he mumbles into Jensen’s hairline, his hands busy with zipper and button and underwear.

Jensen’s pulse is pounding in his ears; he’s sure Jared can feel it in their deep, slightly manic kisses. “Says the straightie.”

Jared pulls back enough to look down at him, the smile evident in the lines around his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you could queer anybody, J.”

“Let me guess, it’s the lips.” Jensen doesn’t really know what he’s saying; he just feels like if he stops talking, this will stop being real. Somebody’ll call cut, and he’ll be fucked.

Jared shrugs, but his gaze does wander to Jensen’s mouth. “Those don’t hurt.” Then he goes back to kissing the shit out of Jensen. Then Jensen’s stubble, and nose, and ears, and his hand is pushing in to get at Jensen’s balls, and Jensen breathes in stabby breaths against Jared’s clavicle.

“Dean could turn people,” he manages. And Dean has, in fact, in Jensen’s head, but that’s backstory nobody else knows about except maybe Danneel. Oh Christ and Sera that one time with the wine.

He feels Jared shrug again. “At first, yeah.”

And oh yeah, that’s Jared’s hand on his cock, and Jensen’s mouth is probably open as he tries to keep upright and focused on whatever the hell it is they’re talking about. “At first he could turn people or at first he turned you?”

Jared pulls back, and his smile is broad, his eyes getting squinty. “That’s my Jensen, always having to be clear. Shoulda been a lawyer.”

Let’s not talk about how Jensen’s cock reacts to the casual possessive. Jared can feel it, anyway, he’s sure. “You make an Ally McBeal joke, I’m ending this right now.”

Jared tugs lazily, with both hands, one stroking up Jensen’s nearly-hard cock and one pulling at his hip to get him closer. “No, you’re not. You’re not ending this tonight, tomorrow, or the next thousand years. And neither am I.”

And for a guy who’d been married for ten years and divorced for about five minutes, he seems pretty sure.

Jensen clears his throat. “Hey, you don’t know, I might be awful in bed. Or have a really tiny—”

But Jared’s clamped his not-full-of-cock hand over Jensen’s mouth, a twinkle in his eye. “You might regret those words in a minute.”

Jensen tries to talk but Jared shakes his head, keeps Jensen’s face half-covered. His hand leaves Jensen’s cock, and Jensen feels bereft for a split second, before he sees that Jared’s reaching for his own jeans. Then Jensen’s immediately in for the assist.

The jeans peel off easily, the boxers get shoved down, and then Jared’s hand falls away from Jensen’s mouth, drifting down to rest at Jensen’s hip as he waits for Jensen to look his fill.

And Jensen’s mouth goes a little dry. “Uh…”

“Go on. You can make a joke, if you want to.”

And Jensen meets his eyes, his cheeks incredibly hot, but all Jared’s got is that easy smile of his. No guile, no remorse, no guilt, no shame. Just a whole lotta Jared.

Jensen lets out a breath. “Oh, my God.”

\---

You kept your eyes averted, all right, when you were the gay one (extremely manly, extremely closeted gay one; but for all its faults it was nice to have an pretense under which to watch Real Housewives) and he was the unbelievably accepting one. The one who, when you didn’t-quite-tell-him, had just said, ‘Sweet, now it’ll embarrass you six ways to Sunday when I jump on you.’ The guy who refused to turn away, even to be polite, and even though, well, the view of the back side would have been more than sufficient.

And besides, growers and showers and all that. You just never knew. And it was impolite to assume.

\---

The rumors have always been ridonkulous, though, that much Jensen knew without looking for it. Basically everybody who’d seen Jared in anything less chaste than a snow parka swore up and down he was hung like a damn porn star, like an animal, like something out of a really twisted fairytale. Everybody had this idea of ‘proportional,’ like the rest of Jared’s body wasn’t the result of a childhood milk habit, a genetic crapshoot, and countless hours sweating under barbells.

Jensen had seen Jared’s clothes, in various stages of dress and undress and cleanliness and Godliness. The guy was not hiding a baseball bat.

Which was just as well. Because Sandy was about four feet tall, and Gen wasn’t much bigger. Jensen shuddered to think. He’d had his own share of uncomfortable experiences. (Like the back of a Volkswagen. That wasn’t why he preferred to top, though. He’d had some amazing experiences taking it. He just preferred not to, for whatever reason.) So he hoped, for their sake, that Jared’s dick was more Average than the rest of him.

Mostly, that’s what he hoped.

\---

“So much for proportional, am I right?”

“What?”

“That’s what you’re thinking.”

Jensen swallows, shrugs one shoulder. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m also thinking—“ Jensen reaches out, slowly, and cups Jared’s cock. It jumps in his hand, Jared’s hips shifting forward, and Jensen watches, fascinated beyond belief—he’s seen more than a few dicks in his life, and this one is not all that different, other than its delicate size, but he’s stuck on it, on feeling it heat up, knowing it’s filling up, seeing it extend towards him eagerly. “Well, to be honest, I was thinking the tiny women make so much more sense now—“

“Touché.”

“But mostly I was thinking thank God, because I am too impatient for foreplay and prep right now.”

“Wait, you were planning on me fucking you?”

Jensen clears his throat. “Well, I usually top, but with you being new to all this…“

And here is the one thing Jensen misses about heterosexual sex: you don’t have to have a fucking panel discussion just to figure out the course of action, unless there’s something extra going on. It’s just a buzz-kill.

“No,” Jared’s saying, “I think you should. Be the pitcher.”

Jensen stops and stares at him. “Somethin’ you’re not telling me?”

Jared half shrugs. “I’ve had a lot of sex, J.”

“Yeah, but with women.”

Jared sighs. “Women have fingers, Jensen.”

“Yeah, but-- Oh! Oh. So.”

“Yeah. So. It’s cool.” He stretches, does one of his little wiggles that’s supposed to be silly but is sexy anyway, damn him straight to hell. “It’s more than cool, in fact.”

“Well. Well, okay.” God damn. “That’s… awesome.”

Jared grins. “Thought so.”

And he unceremoniously wraps both arms around Jensen and hauls him up, until Jensen’s forced to clench up and hook his legs around Jared’s huge self in order to not fall over.

“Asshole!” he says, huffing, smiling into Jared’s messy kisses. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s laughing until the bed lands under him and Jared lands on top of him-- and his wind gets kicked out of him a little at the look on Jared’s face.

“Hi,” Jared says to him. Jensen can barely hear it, but he can feel the air of the word on his skin.

“Hey,” he says back, his voice rough as a Sunday morning hangover. “We really doing this?”

Jared’s grin is practically blinding. “Hell yeah, we are.”

“All right, then. Get naked, please.”

Jared laughs, full on, and Jensen can feel his own stupid smile but he distracts himself with carrying out his order, and for a few minutes it’s a scuffle of legs and pants and elbows and kisses and curses and they get distracted more than once by new skin, tongues and teeth mapping out territory in a brand new battle.

“Hey, I thought you were going to let me be the manly one,” Jensen sputters as he finds himself nakedly pinned to the bed by an equally naked Jared.

Jared leans down, making a ‘Thinking Evil Overlord’ face, then acquiesces, flopping down at Jensen’s side. His knees fall open, and he puts a hand on his forehead like a swooning maiden. “Fine, have your way with me, if you must.”

“Why you little...” Jensen is quick to settle between Jared’s thighs, pushing them up and out and getting Jared’s lips open under his while his hand goes straight to Jared’s cock, which may be small, but it’s plucky, and fully ready for whatever lies ahead. He strokes it for a moment, pulling a few different ways to see what works, although truth be told most of anything works, especially the first time.

A fact he sets about enjoying, immensely. Until Jared breaks away from his mouth, panting. “J…”

“Yeah?”

“I will kill you.”

“So much for having my way with you.”

“I’m sure even fair maidens have their breaking points.”

“Can we please focus? Where is the lube?”

Jared reaches over to the side of the bed with his go-go-Gadget arms, but comes back with just a condom. “I’m not _actually_ a maiden, man. You don’t even really have to worry about all that.” As if for emphasis, he gets his thighs around Jensen’s torso, so they’re a unit, and so, so close.

Jensen raises an eyebrow and rears back a little, surprised. “I what now? You into that kinky shit?”

Jared just snorts. “Nice segue. No. You’re not gonna hurt me.” His gaze travels lazily down to Jensen’s cock, until Jensen feels a little affronted.

“Hey, you callin’ me small?” Then he realizes what he’s said and his face flames. He swallows. “I mean, uh—“

“Jensen.” Jared gathers Jensen’s face in his hands, remarkably schmoopy but sadly reassuring. “Get your foot outta your mouth and think logically. You have seen the deuces I drop.”

Jensen groans, but he can feel the tension leak out of his body. “You’re _such_ a boner-killer.”

“And right.”

“And that really _was_ a great segue I gave you, huh?”

“Yeah, thanks very much.”

“Welcome. Now we gonna do this or what, Killer?”

“Now you’re helping with the compensation. Or have a strange affinity for bulldogs.”

“They’re compensating for having squashed faces.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me?”

“Sure.”

But once he’s got the condom on, and is stupid with Jared’s kisses, Jensen hesitates again. “Speaking of… have you… dropped a deuce lately?” Oh yeah, so sexy. “I mean –I know you’re a morning guy, but you’ve been a little fucked up recently, so is this going to be uncomfortable, or messy—“

Jared cuts him off with his lips, then mumbles, “You’re adorable.”

Jensen snorts, rests their foreheads together. “Yes, talking about shit is so ador—“

“We should be okay, but that’s what condoms are for anyways. Are you sure you’re gay? Because—“

“Oh, you’re _on_.” And he pushes, and with a little bit of a _pop_ , he’s in, and they’re both stunned silent. Staring at each other, like they’re confused as to how they ended up here. Then he pulls back and pushes in again, and it doesn’t fucking matter how they got there, just that they _are_ there, and-- “Jesus fucking Chris, Jared,” Jensen pants against the hot skin of Jared’s neck.

“Yeah,” Jared lets out shakily. “Yeah…”

And it’s all systems go from there. Jared feels fucking fantastic around Jensen’s dick, and even though he’s never been fucked by a guy before, he catches on quickly, tipping his hips up as best he can, his hand on his cock, moving in sync, urging Jensen on with mumbled words and fumbled kisses. Sweating all over _everything_.

It’s the sexiest fucking thing Jensen’s ever fucking experienced.

So he comes like he’s nineteen—in about two minutes and hard enough to make him physically shudder into Jared’s body.

He stills, mortified for a second, then starts to actually hear what Jared’s murmuring into his ear. “…fucking perfect, you asshole…haven’t come so hard in years…”

Jensen lets his head drop, lets his body be enveloped by Jared’s for a few minutes, then groans and heaves back onto his haunches. The squelching sound is really attractive, and Jensen feels his cheeks heat up from more than just the orgasm, but then he feels Jared’s hand cupping his neck, and their eyes meet.

Jared’s smile makes everything better, as fucking cheesy as that is. Jensen can’t resist it, doesn’t have to, just leans down to kiss those fucked-out lips.

He feels it as Jared lets his legs fall back down onto the bed, thighs still slightly spread, and looks down at their uglies. “Ugh, so fucking messy,” Jared says. “One drawback to this buttsex thing.” And he looks up at Jensen with the puppy eyes.

“Oh, no,” Jensen says quickly. “No fucking way. You think I’m gonna go get you a washcloth or something? It’s your fucking house!”

But Jared just keeps giving him that _face_.

Jensen sighs. Then heaves himself out of bed. Because he’s that kind of whupped asshole, and it’s only been about twenty minutes. 

Fifteen years and twenty minutes.

When he gets back, Jared has let one of the dogs into the room and onto the bed, although kept her away from the scene of the crime. Jensen feels awkward as hell but his mama raised him right so he does the cleaning, Jared’s hand in his hair as he wipes them both free of come, condom residue, and the unwelcome but unavoidable detritus of anal sex. He takes care with Jared’s asshole, only to finds it’s barely reddened. “Huh,” he says.

“Told you,” Jared says smugly. Then he takes the washcloth and pitches it onto the floor, over Jensen’s protests. “Now come here.”

Jensen finds himself arranged in a pile of Jared and sweat and dog, and once he gets over the smell, it’s not all bad. It’s life, he supposes.

He hears Jared’s heartbeat slowing, feels his own jaw crack in a yawn. His gaze and mind wander. Jared’s dick is so unapologetically petite, lying politely against his thigh, and Jensen’s talking before he thinks about it. “So--” Then he realizes what he was about to say, and blanches. “Just kidding, that was about the rudest thing I could ever ask.”

Jared just laughs. “You think I haven’t heard it?”

Jensen regards him for a second, then shrugs. “Okay, then. Is all this—” And he waves and makes a ‘the gym is THAT way’ flex. “—you know, compensation?”

“Oh, totally,” Jared deadpans. “I hate being this short.”

Jensen shoves at him. “Real Napoleon complex.”

“Half the man I used to be.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. I never knew.”

“And now you half know?”

“This conversation is making less sense the longer we keep going.”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of like life.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Real deep.”

“I’ll show you real deep.”

“You already did.”

“Yeah, you’re right, you probably won’t be up for another round for a couple hours. Grandpa.”

“Hey, I’m 42, not dead.”

Jared snorts. “No, it’s okay, we can get up, make some food—“

Jensen groans and rolls away, shoving facefirst into the pillow beneath him. “Gimme twenty minutes."

“—walk the dogs, watch the game.”

Jensen peeks up out of one eye. “Game?”

“Yeah. And when the Seahawks are getting trounced in the third quarter, we can try again. You’ll be ready by then, right?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Sure you are.”

“Once I get up from this bed.”

\---

“So, listen.” Jared stared at his beer like it held all the answers in the world.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“I’ll refrain from making the obvious joke.”

“I’ve been thinking about why this thing with Gen didn’t work.”

Oh.

“I wanted it to. I loved her. I still love her, she’s amazing, she’s— You know, the mother of my children.” His lips tilted into a smile at the mention. “And she’s great at it.”

Jensen waited, then prompted. “But?”

“But.” Jared took a deep breath. “But there’s this lizard brain.”

And whatever Jensen had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “Lizard… brain?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna have to elaborate a little, Jared. Help me out.”

Jared laughed at that. “Yeah, alright. I heard this term, somewhere, about base instincts, to procreate, to sleep, to hit stuff… Called it lizard brain, because it’s—“ He waved his hands around.

“Pithy?”

Jared laughed again, his eyes squinting up at Jensen. “Yeah, that. And I definitely see that in myself, you know? Feel when that happens, when I want to beat something, fuck something…” He rotated his bottle in his hands, but didn’t continue.

“You’re freaking me out, man,” Jensen said quietly. Half-joking, but only half.

“Yeah, sorry, I...”

“Gen,” he prodded gently.

“Yeah.”

“Lizard brain and Gen.”

“Lizard brain didn’t want to be with Gen.”

“Okay.”

Jared didn’t seem to want to elaborate further. Jensen shook his head, leaned toward Jared on the couch. “I mean, that’s okay. We gotta go with our instincts sometimes, you know?” Oh, hypocrisy, you are the _best_ teacher.

And suddenly Jared was laughing. Not at Jensen, he could tell, but at himself.

“I didn’t go with my instincts, man, is what I’m saying. I was with her for a long time, when I could’ve…“ But once again, it trailed off into nothing, into Jared staring at his beer.

Jensen felt his eyebrows draw together. He was trying to think of things Jared could be not telling him, but Jared always could’ve had any woman in the world, for real, so he was kind of at a loss. “Could’ve what?”

Jared exhaled on a puff of air, then reached forward to put his beer down on the coffee table. Jensen noticed his hands were shaking, and his light curiosity became genuine concern. “Could’ve what, man?”

And Jared turned and looked at him, eyes warm as usual, and a corner of his mouth turned up. They were close on the couch, a fact Jensen only realized when Jared easily reached across the space and pressed their lips together.

Jensen, reacting on reflex, pulled back immediately. Not far. Just…far enough. “What the hell, Jared.”

Jared chuckled. “I know, right?”

Jensen shook his head. “No, I don’t— I don’t know!”

Jared tilted his head. Brought up a hand to cup the back of Jensen’s neck. “Well, what do you know?”

“I know… I know you’ve been off-limits for so long that I can’t even—Dude, I don’t downshift that fast!” And that was what it felt like, felt like he was flying along the Autobahn at a hundred and fifteen with no brakes in sight.

Jared got it, Jensen knew he did by the look on his face, but he leaned forward and kissed Jensen again anyways.

That time, Jensen stilled. Jensen let him. Jensen found his hands grabbing at Jared’s biceps and holding the fuck on.

He pulled back as the kiss broke, gasping. “But you’re—you’re not—“

“Nope, I’m not,” Jared said, nuzzling along Jensen’s jaw line.

“But you want this.”

“It’s beyond wanting, that’s what I’m saying. It’s—“ He pulled a face, stuck his tongue out, clearly tried to do a reptile impression and mostly failed. “Lizard brain.”

Jensen exhaled slowly, trying to gather his wits. Which was hard as shit with a Jared Padalecki licking his neck. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Really, really sure?”

“Jensen. For the love of God, yes.” When Jared pulled back, his eyes were dark, twinkling. “And let me show you just how.”

_**fin** _


End file.
